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what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making THANK YOU I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.” The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents. When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious. God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent “I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future. Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that. My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad. To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time. It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. : what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making THANK YOU I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.” The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents. When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious. God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent “I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future. Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that. My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad. To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time. It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely.

what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychologica...

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107bees: randomslasher: zoblogs: daphnetrodon: daphnetrodon: didyouknowmagic: froglezbian: straight people shut up challenge Frank stop. Go read a book or yell at a cloud it would be just as useful as this statement you left on Twitter. He did add this later, which is… something? [x] good ending This is what people mean when they say that privilege is invisible to the people who have it. It never occurred to him that knowing someone’s orientation would be important to anyone, because to him, a straight man, representation is everywhere. It’s overabundant. It’s so common as to be taken for granted. To him, representation of his sexuality isn’t important because it’s there.  I love that he learned. I love watching people understand their own blind spots when it comes to privilege.  Can also be filed under: why cancel culture is dumb, people need to make mistakes to grow : 107bees: randomslasher: zoblogs: daphnetrodon: daphnetrodon: didyouknowmagic: froglezbian: straight people shut up challenge Frank stop. Go read a book or yell at a cloud it would be just as useful as this statement you left on Twitter. He did add this later, which is… something? [x] good ending This is what people mean when they say that privilege is invisible to the people who have it. It never occurred to him that knowing someone’s orientation would be important to anyone, because to him, a straight man, representation is everywhere. It’s overabundant. It’s so common as to be taken for granted. To him, representation of his sexuality isn’t important because it’s there.  I love that he learned. I love watching people understand their own blind spots when it comes to privilege.  Can also be filed under: why cancel culture is dumb, people need to make mistakes to grow

107bees: randomslasher: zoblogs: daphnetrodon: daphnetrodon: didyouknowmagic: froglezbian: straight people shut up challenge Fran...

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professionalpeachhunk: [[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation, in my opinion, so if you’re white you should really read this. Below are Isaiah’s notes on each slide.]] — What is White Fragility? Robin DiAngelo is a professor at Westfield State University and author of What Does it Mean to Be White? Developing White Racial Literacy. I’m sure you’ve all seen these ‘defensive moves’ in action before. “I didn’t mean anything by it” “I wasn’t trying to be offensive” “I have a black friend” “Not all white people” People are often more worried about being called a racist than actually doing something racist. In America white people often don’t even have to consider race. They often think of themselves as “raceless” white is conditioned to be the norm and everyone else is considered “raced” or “colored”. White fragility allows white people to govern when and how race is discussed. White people expect to be educated on racism, and in a nice way. — Why Is It A Bad Thing? White people never learn as a result and are allowed to continue saying and doing racist things. White people prefer to hear these things from other white people but because other white people don’t know enough about racism, they cycle continues. When people of color do things like the BLACKLIVESMATTER movement, many white peoples responses were “all lives matter” this is white fragility. Proclaiming that black lives matter does not inherently mean that other lives don’t. This statement is made because society continually shows us that black lives don’t matter in america and these are the lives that need the affirming. We already know that white lives matter, it doesn’t need to be stated. White people are very used to being the center of things and when they aren’t it makes them uncomfortable. — Why Does This Happen? Most people don’t fully grasp the idea of systemic racism and that we live in a racist society that perpetuates racist ideas. We are socialized into white supremacy. : professionalpeachhunk: [[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation, in my opinion, so if you’re white you should really read this. Below are Isaiah’s notes on each slide.]] — What is White Fragility? Robin DiAngelo is a professor at Westfield State University and author of What Does it Mean to Be White? Developing White Racial Literacy. I’m sure you’ve all seen these ‘defensive moves’ in action before. “I didn’t mean anything by it” “I wasn’t trying to be offensive” “I have a black friend” “Not all white people” People are often more worried about being called a racist than actually doing something racist. In America white people often don’t even have to consider race. They often think of themselves as “raceless” white is conditioned to be the norm and everyone else is considered “raced” or “colored”. White fragility allows white people to govern when and how race is discussed. White people expect to be educated on racism, and in a nice way. — Why Is It A Bad Thing? White people never learn as a result and are allowed to continue saying and doing racist things. White people prefer to hear these things from other white people but because other white people don’t know enough about racism, they cycle continues. When people of color do things like the BLACKLIVESMATTER movement, many white peoples responses were “all lives matter” this is white fragility. Proclaiming that black lives matter does not inherently mean that other lives don’t. This statement is made because society continually shows us that black lives don’t matter in america and these are the lives that need the affirming. We already know that white lives matter, it doesn’t need to be stated. White people are very used to being the center of things and when they aren’t it makes them uncomfortable. — Why Does This Happen? Most people don’t fully grasp the idea of systemic racism and that we live in a racist society that perpetuates racist ideas. We are socialized into white supremacy.

professionalpeachhunk: [[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation...

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e-e-e-s: dudeinpyjamas: anadiableau: Okay but honestly fucking shit like this when they show Zuko’s scar side when talking about Sozin and then having the bar pass and have his non-scar side when Iroh says Roku is his great grandfather if EXACTLY the kind of shit that elevates this show to where really no other show has ever come and probably never will I mean if you frame it in a photo it looks much better, in reality it was a moving shot. Still nice but not amazing. What really is an amzing shot is this Who is realy imprisioned here? The way this shot is framed makes it clear that Zuko is in a prison of his own mind. In fact you can look at how Zuko and Iroh are generally framed in this scene Zuko: and Iroh: Even in shots where Iroh is framed together with the iron bars he is far removed from them while Zuko is right in front: What takes the cake though is the following shot sequence: When it shows Iroh it zooms in from this: To this: While with Zuko it’s the exact reverse. It zooms out from this: To this: Say what you want but man Avatar had some amazing shot composition.  Also the reason The Last Airbender was better than Korra is because atla had Zuko and Iroh, while Korra didn’t. Fight me. In addition to this scene being very well done, the whole The Avatar and the Firelord episode is just genius. It just makes the parallels between Zuko and Aang so much more powerful in retrospect. They weren’t on parallel paths just because. They were on parallel paths because they’re two parts of one lineage: Roku’s Fire Nation lineage and his spiritual-mediator Avatar lineage. And throughout the series the two of them are paired up through visual language, and the show even goes as far as match-cuts between the two of them as they’re in different locations and different fights. I forget where, but I KNOW there’s a shot where Aang is dodging in a fight and basically running towards the viewer and it cuts straight to Zuko doing the exact same thing, like they’re two enactments of one story. And the twin blades? Zuko himself says they’re two halves of a single weapon, and shouldn’t be thought of as separate. The twin blades which we really first see in The Blue Spirit storyline, in which Aang asks Zuko if they COULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS. It’s been stated that the blades represent the good and evil parts of Zuko, but isn’t that just a direct result of him grappling with his lineage, which is directly tied to Aang? In conclusion: I am not ok and will never be ok. Thanks Avatar. : e-e-e-s: dudeinpyjamas: anadiableau: Okay but honestly fucking shit like this when they show Zuko’s scar side when talking about Sozin and then having the bar pass and have his non-scar side when Iroh says Roku is his great grandfather if EXACTLY the kind of shit that elevates this show to where really no other show has ever come and probably never will I mean if you frame it in a photo it looks much better, in reality it was a moving shot. Still nice but not amazing. What really is an amzing shot is this Who is realy imprisioned here? The way this shot is framed makes it clear that Zuko is in a prison of his own mind. In fact you can look at how Zuko and Iroh are generally framed in this scene Zuko: and Iroh: Even in shots where Iroh is framed together with the iron bars he is far removed from them while Zuko is right in front: What takes the cake though is the following shot sequence: When it shows Iroh it zooms in from this: To this: While with Zuko it’s the exact reverse. It zooms out from this: To this: Say what you want but man Avatar had some amazing shot composition.  Also the reason The Last Airbender was better than Korra is because atla had Zuko and Iroh, while Korra didn’t. Fight me. In addition to this scene being very well done, the whole The Avatar and the Firelord episode is just genius. It just makes the parallels between Zuko and Aang so much more powerful in retrospect. They weren’t on parallel paths just because. They were on parallel paths because they’re two parts of one lineage: Roku’s Fire Nation lineage and his spiritual-mediator Avatar lineage. And throughout the series the two of them are paired up through visual language, and the show even goes as far as match-cuts between the two of them as they’re in different locations and different fights. I forget where, but I KNOW there’s a shot where Aang is dodging in a fight and basically running towards the viewer and it cuts straight to Zuko doing the exact same thing, like they’re two enactments of one story. And the twin blades? Zuko himself says they’re two halves of a single weapon, and shouldn’t be thought of as separate. The twin blades which we really first see in The Blue Spirit storyline, in which Aang asks Zuko if they COULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS. It’s been stated that the blades represent the good and evil parts of Zuko, but isn’t that just a direct result of him grappling with his lineage, which is directly tied to Aang? In conclusion: I am not ok and will never be ok. Thanks Avatar.
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cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER : cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the g...

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benteja: holmesandtheroman: madlori: tastefullyoffensive: by Xergion This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program. Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly). The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too. Basically the dog is a service animal for them. The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups. Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best. DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT! : benteja: holmesandtheroman: madlori: tastefullyoffensive: by Xergion This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program. Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly). The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too. Basically the dog is a service animal for them. The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups. Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best. DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT!

benteja: holmesandtheroman: madlori: tastefullyoffensive: by Xergion This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus...

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libertybill: jooshcraft: theyoungpatriot1776: friendlyalien: klubbhead: friendly-neighborhood-ehrhardt: thestarsareundecided: landysbear: kompanie-mutter: the-mighty-birdy: friendly-neighborhood-patriarch: libertybill: libertybill: libertybill: Uh hey, CNN, why? HEY UH NYT?? WHY?? HEY UH WASHINGTON POST UH??? WHY??? Eeeyup In a world of these chucklefucks, ironically be Buzzfeed holy shit WHAT THE FUCK CNN Isn’t she the Minister of Propaganda or something? propaganda guru, communications aide, administrative gatekeeper yes.  our friends over at nbc also used some creepily similar phrasing to the other major news sources above btw, including comparing her to ivanka trump, although the headline for their piece is more neutral & less glowing. theyre still treating her like some kind of celebrity, & comparing her favorably to various member of the trump administration/family. i cant believe buzzfeed had to be a voice of reason in the press here. buzzfeed. that is horrifying. We’ve jumped timelines AGAIN The terrifying timeline where I have to agree with goddamn Buzzfeed. This feels vaguely like those occasions where an Onion article hits too close to the truth. Vaguely Attractive Communist Woman Lauded by Media Following Gulag PR Campaign. Don’t forget this shit when they try it again. Those who don’t learn history and all that whatnot 🤦🏾‍♀️: libertybill: jooshcraft: theyoungpatriot1776: friendlyalien: klubbhead: friendly-neighborhood-ehrhardt: thestarsareundecided: landysbear: kompanie-mutter: the-mighty-birdy: friendly-neighborhood-patriarch: libertybill: libertybill: libertybill: Uh hey, CNN, why? HEY UH NYT?? WHY?? HEY UH WASHINGTON POST UH??? WHY??? Eeeyup In a world of these chucklefucks, ironically be Buzzfeed holy shit WHAT THE FUCK CNN Isn’t she the Minister of Propaganda or something? propaganda guru, communications aide, administrative gatekeeper yes.  our friends over at nbc also used some creepily similar phrasing to the other major news sources above btw, including comparing her to ivanka trump, although the headline for their piece is more neutral & less glowing. theyre still treating her like some kind of celebrity, & comparing her favorably to various member of the trump administration/family. i cant believe buzzfeed had to be a voice of reason in the press here. buzzfeed. that is horrifying. We’ve jumped timelines AGAIN The terrifying timeline where I have to agree with goddamn Buzzfeed. This feels vaguely like those occasions where an Onion article hits too close to the truth. Vaguely Attractive Communist Woman Lauded by Media Following Gulag PR Campaign. Don’t forget this shit when they try it again. Those who don’t learn history and all that whatnot 🤦🏾‍♀️
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isei-silva: sorry everyone for getting you locked in the car of this nostalgia trip with no snacks, no air conditioning, and no end in sightabove is old man Dachande (not from AvP: Prey, just shares the same name), whom is played by my friend and as you can guess from his hefty build he is a powerhouse warrior that punches like a truck.He is an Arbitrator and Masurao’s mateand below him is Masurao, my female yautja that likes to push his buttons. Also, as you can see, Masurao has no breasts - just pecs. I like to headcanon that females and males have few sexual dimorphism in that respect, and females only really develop breasts when they are nursing, and once the infant weans her body resorts back to normal like this: isei-silva: sorry everyone for getting you locked in the car of this nostalgia trip with no snacks, no air conditioning, and no end in sightabove is old man Dachande (not from AvP: Prey, just shares the same name), whom is played by my friend and as you can guess from his hefty build he is a powerhouse warrior that punches like a truck.He is an Arbitrator and Masurao’s mateand below him is Masurao, my female yautja that likes to push his buttons. Also, as you can see, Masurao has no breasts - just pecs. I like to headcanon that females and males have few sexual dimorphism in that respect, and females only really develop breasts when they are nursing, and once the infant weans her body resorts back to normal like this

isei-silva: sorry everyone for getting you locked in the car of this nostalgia trip with no snacks, no air conditioning, and no end in s...

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prettyeyezciya: jess-curious: dynastylnoire: hugochillingsworth: onlyblackgirl: bruddabois: sobeitjay: catmasterfunk: thehighpriestofreverseracism: This is beautiful i will literally never not reblog this. do people really say that Yea I’ve heard people say that shit Yes, they say it all the time. http://instagram.com/miryamlumpini Here’s her account, her tattoos are so fantastic to look at. reblogging for the tattoo artists IG to be boosted I keep seeing this post and I’ve gotta speak up on it, because that isn’t a good example of color on dark skin.  I’m a tattoo artist, and I’ve had a bunch of clients come in saying they were told dark skin can’t take any color whatsoever, which is bullshit. The long and short of it is dark skin can take plenty of color, provided it isn’t too light. Tattoos look best when they’re fresh because the ink is still on the top layer of open skin. As the skin heals over the tattoo, the color gets less vibrant and defined. This is true of anybody of any skin tone. Tattoo pigments tend to act a lot like watercolor; they’re not terribly opaque in the skin, meaning that as that tattoo ages, the white will fade into patches of slightly lighter skin, and may disappear altogether, as will lighter colors like yellows and pinks. Many artists consider doing tattoos entirely or mostly in white ink to be irresponsible for that reason, and use white ink very sparingly to create small highlights, in places where even faded ink will add contrast. Notice how the yellow is all but gone on even the lightest skin, while the deeper reds have stayed. And that isn’t even factoring in sun exposure, how often the skin is submerged in water, friction, or how the skin in the area bends and flexes. I know extremely pale people who lost all the color in their tattoos in 5 years due to a variety of those factors; I’m pale as they come, and the yellow in my oldest tattoo is only 2 years old and already super faded.  Color that lasts a long time is darker and more saturated than the skin it’s in. See how the butterfly is still noticeably purple, and stands out in all the skin tones? Teals, yellows, pinks and whites photograph beautifully in dark skin, but ultimately don’t have longevity as tattoos. Dark skin, however, can still take reds, blues, greens, purples, and browns beautifully! The best way to make color vivid in any skin is to put it in a strong black outline; tattoos like the one below will look like bruises as they age, and the fading color doesn’t have structured black to contrast and frame it. Here’s some color on dark skin that will age well! The yellows in this tattoo are very saturated and framed in lots of solid black; even if they fade, the fish will stay nice and vibrant. Similarly, the white in this tattoo will definitely lighten, but the dark reds and blacks will hold the tattoo together very well. Tl;dr, have a solid black outline, make sure the colors you pick are darker/more saturated than your own skin, and don’t rely too heavily on white. These are basic tattoo principles that can and should be used when deciding on any tattoo, regardless of skintone. Hope it helps! Reblogging for the amazing fucking information I just received on tattoos : prettyeyezciya: jess-curious: dynastylnoire: hugochillingsworth: onlyblackgirl: bruddabois: sobeitjay: catmasterfunk: thehighpriestofreverseracism: This is beautiful i will literally never not reblog this. do people really say that Yea I’ve heard people say that shit Yes, they say it all the time. http://instagram.com/miryamlumpini Here’s her account, her tattoos are so fantastic to look at. reblogging for the tattoo artists IG to be boosted I keep seeing this post and I’ve gotta speak up on it, because that isn’t a good example of color on dark skin.  I’m a tattoo artist, and I’ve had a bunch of clients come in saying they were told dark skin can’t take any color whatsoever, which is bullshit. The long and short of it is dark skin can take plenty of color, provided it isn’t too light. Tattoos look best when they’re fresh because the ink is still on the top layer of open skin. As the skin heals over the tattoo, the color gets less vibrant and defined. This is true of anybody of any skin tone. Tattoo pigments tend to act a lot like watercolor; they’re not terribly opaque in the skin, meaning that as that tattoo ages, the white will fade into patches of slightly lighter skin, and may disappear altogether, as will lighter colors like yellows and pinks. Many artists consider doing tattoos entirely or mostly in white ink to be irresponsible for that reason, and use white ink very sparingly to create small highlights, in places where even faded ink will add contrast. Notice how the yellow is all but gone on even the lightest skin, while the deeper reds have stayed. And that isn’t even factoring in sun exposure, how often the skin is submerged in water, friction, or how the skin in the area bends and flexes. I know extremely pale people who lost all the color in their tattoos in 5 years due to a variety of those factors; I’m pale as they come, and the yellow in my oldest tattoo is only 2 years old and already super faded.  Color that lasts a long time is darker and more saturated than the skin it’s in. See how the butterfly is still noticeably purple, and stands out in all the skin tones? Teals, yellows, pinks and whites photograph beautifully in dark skin, but ultimately don’t have longevity as tattoos. Dark skin, however, can still take reds, blues, greens, purples, and browns beautifully! The best way to make color vivid in any skin is to put it in a strong black outline; tattoos like the one below will look like bruises as they age, and the fading color doesn’t have structured black to contrast and frame it. Here’s some color on dark skin that will age well! The yellows in this tattoo are very saturated and framed in lots of solid black; even if they fade, the fish will stay nice and vibrant. Similarly, the white in this tattoo will definitely lighten, but the dark reds and blacks will hold the tattoo together very well. Tl;dr, have a solid black outline, make sure the colors you pick are darker/more saturated than your own skin, and don’t rely too heavily on white. These are basic tattoo principles that can and should be used when deciding on any tattoo, regardless of skintone. Hope it helps! Reblogging for the amazing fucking information I just received on tattoos
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ophidahlia: Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it. : ophidahlia: Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it.

ophidahlia: Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by char...

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prismatic-bell: the-invisible-self: pulmonary-poultry: the-spoopy-ghost-of-raejin99: mandalorianreynolds: kuriquinn: prismatic-bell: the-spoopy-ghost-of-raejin99: prismatic-bell: broken-bits-of-dreams: prismatic-bell: aiko-mori-hates-pedos: artbymoga: Throwback to all these Jesus comics I drew in 2012… Good post OP Good post, OP, and if you ever decide to do another may I please suggest “NOT IN HEBREW IT DOESN’T” as a punchline? So much of the Old Testament is HORRIFICALLY translated from the Tanakh, it drives me batty. WAIT WAIT WHAT DOES IT SAY?????? I NEED TO LIKE,, DESTROY MI MUM FOR BEING REALLY HOMOPHOBIC Okay, so, strictly speaking, the infamous Leviticus 18:22 does say “forbidden.” Here’s the thing: 1) The word translated as “forbidden” is “toevah.” While that translation isn’t … wrong, it’s sort of like saying “McMansion” means “really big house.” There are a lot of connotations in that word. The specific issue with toevah is that we … sort of … don’t know anymore exactly what it meant. Based on context, it seems likely that the word referred to something ritually forbidden. This part of Torah was written not only as a guide for future generations, but also to say “so, look around, see your neighbors? DON’T DO THAT.“ Thus, if we interpret “toevah” to mean something that’s forbidden to do as a ritual before G-d, then the verse says nothing whatsoever about Adam and Steve and their two kids and their dog–it’s saying you shouldn’t have sex with another man in the Temple as a sacrifice. 2) Following the same “this is ritually forbidden” logic of toevah, this verse may also be interpreted as “don’t do sex magic,” which was a thing in. Like. A lot of fucking cultures at the time. 3) Hebrew is a highly gendered language, and the grammatical gender in this verse is really really weird. One of the “men” in this verse is given female grammar. Why? Who fucking knows, man, this isn’t the only grammatical oddity in Torah. (There are also places where G-d is referred to as plural, and also as female.) One suggestion is that this is a way of creating a diminutive–that is, that the verse should be read as “a man should not lie with a boy.” Now, it’s worth noting that modern secular scholarship has concluded the written Torah was written down around the 6th century BCE, and most non-Orthodox Jewish scholars are like “yeah, all things considered, that sounds pretty legit.” Do you know what else was happening around the 6th century BCE? What laypeople tend to mean when they say “ancient Greece” was happening. Do you know what happened a lot in that time period in Greece? Dudes forming relationships with younger boys, like ages 10-15, and using them for sex in exchange for financial gifts, mentorship, etc. While we don’t know just how young some of these younger boys may have been, we do know some were prepubescent. In light of this, and also something I mentioned under the first point–”see your neighbors? DON’T DO THAT,” if this verse is interpreted to say “a man should not lie with a boy,” then it’s pretty clearly “my dudes, my fellows, my lads, don’t be fucking pedophiles.” 4) Because of the grammar I mentioned in #3, it’s also possible that “should not lie with a man as with a woman” is actually referring to a place, not an abstract personhood: a man shouldn’t have sex with another man in a woman’s bed. In the time period, a woman’s bed was sort of like–that was her place, her safe sanctuary. It was also a ritually holy place where babies were made. By having sex in her bed, you’re violating her safe space (and also introducing a man who may not be a male relative, thus forcing her into breaking the laws of modesty). If this verse is read this way, then it should be taken to mean “don’t sexually violate a woman’s safety and modesty.”5) And as an offshoot of #4, this may be a second verse relating to infidelity. Which woman’s bed is any random dude in 600 BCE most likely to have access to? His wife’s. But laws were administered differently based on whether the person they pertained to was slave or free, male or female, and so on–thus, a man committing adultery with a woman would be treated differently than man committing adultery with a man (especially because the latter would carry no chance of an illegitimate pregnancy). So you’ll note, there are a lot of ways to read this verse, and only a one-to-one translation with no cultural awareness produces “being gay is wrong, all of the time”.(You’ll also notice the word “abomination” is nowhere to be found. That’s like … a straight-up fiction created for who only knows what reason.) Apparently tumblr mobile doesn’t want to show @prismatic-bell ’s long and in-depth essay, so here’s the screenshots, because it still shows up on mobile browsers: Much appreciated. I love when scholarship and history debunks bullshit …I sadly have more bullshit to report. “removed for violating guidelines”, EVERY screenshot. …goddamnit Let’s try this again I am horrified that @prismatic-bell keeps getting censored + this info is gold. Many thanks, @pulmonary-poultry. This isn’t the only Jewish post of mine that’s mysteriously stopped showing up in searches and/or vanished from my blog entirely, but it is the one I get the most requests to repost, so this saves me from having to rewrite the whole damned essay. @the-invisible-self, thanks for bringing it to my attention that someone was able to preserve the post! : prismatic-bell: the-invisible-self: pulmonary-poultry: the-spoopy-ghost-of-raejin99: mandalorianreynolds: kuriquinn: prismatic-bell: the-spoopy-ghost-of-raejin99: prismatic-bell: broken-bits-of-dreams: prismatic-bell: aiko-mori-hates-pedos: artbymoga: Throwback to all these Jesus comics I drew in 2012… Good post OP Good post, OP, and if you ever decide to do another may I please suggest “NOT IN HEBREW IT DOESN’T” as a punchline? So much of the Old Testament is HORRIFICALLY translated from the Tanakh, it drives me batty. WAIT WAIT WHAT DOES IT SAY?????? I NEED TO LIKE,, DESTROY MI MUM FOR BEING REALLY HOMOPHOBIC Okay, so, strictly speaking, the infamous Leviticus 18:22 does say “forbidden.” Here’s the thing: 1) The word translated as “forbidden” is “toevah.” While that translation isn’t … wrong, it’s sort of like saying “McMansion” means “really big house.” There are a lot of connotations in that word. The specific issue with toevah is that we … sort of … don’t know anymore exactly what it meant. Based on context, it seems likely that the word referred to something ritually forbidden. This part of Torah was written not only as a guide for future generations, but also to say “so, look around, see your neighbors? DON’T DO THAT.“ Thus, if we interpret “toevah” to mean something that’s forbidden to do as a ritual before G-d, then the verse says nothing whatsoever about Adam and Steve and their two kids and their dog–it’s saying you shouldn’t have sex with another man in the Temple as a sacrifice. 2) Following the same “this is ritually forbidden” logic of toevah, this verse may also be interpreted as “don’t do sex magic,” which was a thing in. Like. A lot of fucking cultures at the time. 3) Hebrew is a highly gendered language, and the grammatical gender in this verse is really really weird. One of the “men” in this verse is given female grammar. Why? Who fucking knows, man, this isn’t the only grammatical oddity in Torah. (There are also places where G-d is referred to as plural, and also as female.) One suggestion is that this is a way of creating a diminutive–that is, that the verse should be read as “a man should not lie with a boy.” Now, it’s worth noting that modern secular scholarship has concluded the written Torah was written down around the 6th century BCE, and most non-Orthodox Jewish scholars are like “yeah, all things considered, that sounds pretty legit.” Do you know what else was happening around the 6th century BCE? What laypeople tend to mean when they say “ancient Greece” was happening. Do you know what happened a lot in that time period in Greece? Dudes forming relationships with younger boys, like ages 10-15, and using them for sex in exchange for financial gifts, mentorship, etc. While we don’t know just how young some of these younger boys may have been, we do know some were prepubescent. In light of this, and also something I mentioned under the first point–”see your neighbors? DON’T DO THAT,” if this verse is interpreted to say “a man should not lie with a boy,” then it’s pretty clearly “my dudes, my fellows, my lads, don’t be fucking pedophiles.” 4) Because of the grammar I mentioned in #3, it’s also possible that “should not lie with a man as with a woman” is actually referring to a place, not an abstract personhood: a man shouldn’t have sex with another man in a woman’s bed. In the time period, a woman’s bed was sort of like–that was her place, her safe sanctuary. It was also a ritually holy place where babies were made. By having sex in her bed, you’re violating her safe space (and also introducing a man who may not be a male relative, thus forcing her into breaking the laws of modesty). If this verse is read this way, then it should be taken to mean “don’t sexually violate a woman’s safety and modesty.”5) And as an offshoot of #4, this may be a second verse relating to infidelity. Which woman’s bed is any random dude in 600 BCE most likely to have access to? His wife’s. But laws were administered differently based on whether the person they pertained to was slave or free, male or female, and so on–thus, a man committing adultery with a woman would be treated differently than man committing adultery with a man (especially because the latter would carry no chance of an illegitimate pregnancy). So you’ll note, there are a lot of ways to read this verse, and only a one-to-one translation with no cultural awareness produces “being gay is wrong, all of the time”.(You’ll also notice the word “abomination” is nowhere to be found. That’s like … a straight-up fiction created for who only knows what reason.) Apparently tumblr mobile doesn’t want to show @prismatic-bell ’s long and in-depth essay, so here’s the screenshots, because it still shows up on mobile browsers: Much appreciated. I love when scholarship and history debunks bullshit …I sadly have more bullshit to report. “removed for violating guidelines”, EVERY screenshot. …goddamnit Let’s try this again I am horrified that @prismatic-bell keeps getting censored + this info is gold. Many thanks, @pulmonary-poultry. This isn’t the only Jewish post of mine that’s mysteriously stopped showing up in searches and/or vanished from my blog entirely, but it is the one I get the most requests to repost, so this saves me from having to rewrite the whole damned essay. @the-invisible-self, thanks for bringing it to my attention that someone was able to preserve the post!
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ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER I love this : ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER I love this

ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: Th...

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